Hon^e  Iletters 


V 

Gertrude  Cozad, 

JVIissioHARV  OF  THH  Amhricah  Board 


-^ 


i 

\ 


i^OBE,   dAPAH, 


TO    HER    1-ATHER 


Justus  Li.  Gozad, 


Cleveland,  Ohio. 


,.;^^* 


PRINCETON.  N.J. 


^^. 


% 


^. 


BV  3445  .C69 
Cozad,  Gertrude. 
Home  letters  of  Gertrude 
Cozad,  missionary  of  the 


Gertrude  Cozad,  on  her  return  to  Japan,  writes  as  follows  : 

Kobe,  September  23,  1897. 

I  think  Japan  has  impressed  me  much  as  it  would  a  new- 
comer this  time.  It  seemed  to  me  very  miserable  and  cold  and 
squalid,  as  I  passed  tiirough  the  native  quarter  in  Yokohama. 
There  were  various  types  of  women  to  be  seen  on  the  streets. 
The  well-dressed,  placid,  aimless,  emotionless  women,  and 
among  the  poorer  dressed  women  very  rarely  a  happy  face. 
They  seemed  either  dull,  or  crushed  and  unhappy.  That  is 
the  way  the  people  on  the  street  impressed  me.  l^ut  when  I 
saw  the  girls  who  came  down  to  the  boat  to  meet  Kajiro  San, 
(A  young  Japanese  girl  who  has  just  graduated  from  Mt. 
Holyoke,  and  returned  to  Japan  with  us,)  either  students  or 
teachers  in  the  girls  school,  all  of  them  with  bright,  animated, 
purposeful  faces,  I  felt  the  power  of  a  Christian  life,  of  an 
education,  of  an  enlargening  and  widening  of  thought  and  view. 

The  life  the  missionaries  live  here  does  not  seem  very 
luxurious  to  me  ;  not  so  much  so  as  it  will  after  a  few  months, 
when  I  have  been  off  touring  awhile.  I  am  sighing  for  the 
flesh  pots  of  Egypt. 

The  miserable  Japanese  fruit  is  a  mockery  to  the  name. 
The  butter  smells  so  I  wish  it  might  be  left  off  the  table.  The 
milk  has  no  more  taste  of  milk  than  so  much  rice  water. 
I  used  to  feel  when  1  told  about  those  things  in  America,  as  if 
I  must  be  stretching  it,  but  really  the  half  has  never  been  told. 
There  is  everything  in  getting  used  to  things,  though,  and  they 
will  seem  different  after  awhile. 

Our  school  is  going  to  open  up  in  three  weeks.  It  is 
small,  but  when  there  is  such  demand  for  workers  from  our 
school,  and  so  many  of  our  graduates  are  doing  such  excellent 
work,  we  feel  as  if  we  must  do  all  in  our  power  to  supph'  the 
demand. 

Word  has  just  come  of  the  death,  by  cholera,  of  one  of 
our  most  beautiful  and  efficient  workers,  one  who  entered  the 
school  the  first  vear  I  came  here. 


I  am  to  have  the  privilege  of  doing  what  I  have  longed 
to  do,  teach  the  Gospels.  My  teaching  has  been  the  Old 
Testament  heretofore. 

We  had  Mr.  Makino,  one  of  the  young  evangelists,  here 
to  dinner  yesterday,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  him.  When  I  went 
away  he  was  just  going  to  Kochi,  a  very  hard  field  in  a  very 
un-get-at-able  place.  The  church  was  in  such  condition  it  then 
seemed  almost  unwise  to  send  a  young  inexperienced  man  there, 
but  they  had  twenty-twoadditions  to  the  church  last  year,  eleven 
this  spring  and  four  more  are  waiting  to  be  baptized. 

There  is  a  great  deal  that  is  hopeful  and  encouraging  in 
the  evangelistic  work,  and  the  schools  are  opening  up  well. 
Down  in  Matsumura  they  have  a  school  of  130.  Four  years 
ago  they  were  down  to  twenty  pupils,  and  it  has  only  been 
kept  up  at  an  immense  sacrifice  on  the  part  of  a  few  Japanese 
people. 

Fifty  thousand  dollars  couldn't  have  saved  that  school, 
but  the  earnest,  self-denying  work  of  six-people,  four  Japanese 
and  two  foreigners,  Miss  Judson  and  Miss  Gunnison,  has 
done  it.  Miss  Harwood  is  doing  good  work  there  now;  she  is 
teaching  31  hours  a  week  and  has  been  considered  a  semi- 
invalid  tor  some  years. 

I  firmly  believe  that  if  we  would  do  Christ's  work  we 
must  do  it  as  he  did  with  suffering  and  sacrifice.  While  the 
spirit  of  self-sacrifice  continues  the  work  goes  on  well. 

Oh,  there  is  so  much  to  be  done,  I  am  glad  I  am  liere  to 
do  it,  but  deary  me,  I  realize  on  what  a  small  pattern  I  was  cut 
out.  If  I  can  only  make  Paul's  words  true  though,  "  Not  I 
but  C^hrist,"  I  shall  not  mind  about  the  pattern. 

October  5,  1897. 

It  hardl}'  seems  possible  that  only  one  week  has  passed 
.  since  my  return. 

I  find  it  very  easy  to  slip  right  back  into  the  same  work, 
and  find  my  hands  full  from  morning  till  night.  To-day  I 
attended  the  educational  meeting,  teachers'  institute,  or  what- 
ever it  may   be  called.      All    the  teachers   in   this  part  of  the 


—  3  — 

country  are  in  attendance  for  three  days.  They  have  the 
largest  theater  in  the  place,  and  it  is  packed  full  at  every 
meeting.  People  speak  of  an  "ice  pack"  and  a  "cool  pack,"  but 
to  know  what  a  hiivian  pack  is  you  have  to  go  to  a  Japanese 
theatre  and  sit  on  the  floor  crowded  in  with  a  couple  of 
thousand  people. 

Mr.  Osada  invited  me  to  go  with  him,  and  he  had  my 
shoes  checked  w^th  his  own,  and  then  took  me  in  and  seated 
me  with  the  women,  who  are  always  tucked  off  in  one  corner, 
and  then  disappeared  with  the  check  for  our  shoes. 

For  about  two  hours  I  sat  there  on  the  floor  in  perfect 
agony  with  my  feet,  and  how  I  longed  to  get  my  shoes  and  go 
home.  But  no,  I  was  obliged  to  sit  it  out  for  four  hours, 
during  six  long  addresses,  before  relief  came.  I  sat  next  to 
Kajiro  San ;  she  was  suffering  almost  as  badly  as  I  was.  I  could 
not  help  thinking  of  the  meeting  which  she  addressed  in 
Fargo,  Dak.,  on  our  way  out,  where  she  told  how  soft  the  floors 
were  with  the  straw  mats,  that  thick,  (holding  her  hands  six 
inches  apart.)  They  had  grown  softer  in  the  four  years  she 
had  been  away  from  them.  That  Saturday  she  sat  there  from 
8  to  12  and  i  to  5  and  8  to  10,  ashamed  to  acknowledge  what 
agony  she  was  suffering. 

I  could  not  help  comparing  the  surroundings  with  meet- 
ing places  at  home.  The  building  was  divided  into  sort  of 
stalls,  into  which  the  people  were  packed.  The  attendants, 
young  boys,  make  their  way  in  and  out  among  the  people, 
bringing  the  tobacco  trays  with  all  the  smoking  paraphernalia, 
or  trays  of  tea  in  little  tea  pots,  or  boxes  of  luncheon,  to 
those  who  wished  it.  The  furnishings  were  a  strange  admix- 
ture of  Japanese  and  foreign.  At  the  back  of  the  stage  were 
plain  gilt  screens,  which  made  a  pretty  background  for  the 
beautiful  vases  with  flowers  arranged  in  the  queer  artistic  way, 
the  study  of  which  is  part  of  the  education  of  every 
accomplished  woman.  At  one  side  was  an  eight  day  clock, 
which  with  a  loud  whizzing  strike  marked  the  hours  and 
brought  hope  to  my  soul  that  sometime  the  agony  would  end. 
There  was  an  organ,  sadly   in  need   of  the   superfluous  vim    of 


the  clock,  and  a  grand  piano,  which  was  anything  but  grand  in 
tone.  Then  there  was  the  Buddhist  shrine  at  one  side,  which  is 
a  necessary  adjunct  of  every  theater.  I  was  not  impressed 
with  the  breadth  of  thought  or  eloqunce  of  the  first  three 
speakers,  though  it  may  have  been  broader  than  I  knew,  for 
they  used  such  scholarly  language  that  I  appreciated  the  fact 
that  I  wasn't  in  it.  When  the  fourth  speaker  began,  one  felt 
that  a  man  of  power  was  speaking.  He  impressed  one  as 
being  a  man  of  beautiful  character,  frank,  straightforward, 
clearcut,  true  and  kind.  I  was  sure  he  must  be  a  Christian, 
and  sure  enough  he  turned  out  to  be  a  deacon  in  one  of  our 
churches  in  Tokyo.  When  Christ  is  in  the  heart,  the  face  and 
manner  are  changed. 

The  next  speaker  I  enjoyed  so  much  ;  a  gray-haired  man 
of  the  old  type,  which  is,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  passing  away.  So 
courtly,  so  gentle,  so  lovable;  none  of  the  aggressive  and 
pompous  ways  of  the  men  of  new  Japan. 

After  dinner  I  started  right  off  for  a  meeting  held  in  my 
honor  by  the  young  married  women  and  girls  of  the  church, 
and  though  it  meant  sitting  for  two  hours  more  on  the  floor, 
still  it  was  most  kind  xDf  them  to  have  this  meeting  of  welcome 
so  soon  after  my  return. 

I  hope  they  will  form  a  King's  Daughters'  circle.  I  have 
had  a  most  cordial  welcome  from  the  church.  It  makes  me 
feel  very  humble  to  come  back  here  and  see  the  great  oppor- 
tunities for  work  which  some  people  would  step  right  into, 
but  which  it  seems  so  hard  for  me  to  take  advantage  of.  I  do 
realize  that  if  any  good  comes  of  my  work  it  will  be  Christ 
working  in  me  and  not  my  work.  There  is  work  to  be  done 
all  around  in  the  touring  field,  but  I  am  so  rusty  in  the  lan- 
guage that  I  cannot  go  out  yet.  Perhaps  the  best  thing  would 
be  to  brush  up  on  the  language  by  continual  speaking. 


—  5  — 
koMATSEE,  Shikoku,  Japan,  November  8,  1897. 
Dear  Ones  All  : 

I  have  rejoiced  ever  since  I  came  back,  that  America  and 
American  ways  seemed  natural,  and  Japan  and  her  ways 
unnatural.  But  alas!  America  is  receding  into  the  foreground 
of  pleasant  memories,  while  Japan  has  become  the  real  thing 
and  I  a  part  of  it.  I  ought  not  to  say  "alas,"  for  that  is  the 
very  thing  to  be  desired  ;  but  one  does  like  to  feel  that  he 
belongs  in  his  own  land. 

I  have  only  been  away  from  Kobe  five  days,  but  those 
five  days  have  brought  me  down  to  the  hard  realities  of  life  in 
Japan.  I  have  enjoyed  those  five  days  though,  and  would  not 
exchange  the  life  I  am  to  lead  here,  even  for  the  pleasant  life 
we  had  at  home.  The  contrast  between  the  two  ways  of  liv- 
ing, and  ways  of  thinking  and  acting,  is  very  sharp  now. 

Here  it  seems  as  if  it  were  one  continuous  series  of  stories 
of  sin  and  sorrow,  until  the  heart  is  sick,  and  you  beg  for  a 
cessation  of  those  stories,  and  for  something  bright  and 
encouraging.  If  only  the  sin  were  all  outside  of  the  church 
it  would  be  most  delightful  to  turn  to  the  church  for  comfort 
and  encouragement;  but  alas !  it  is  the  backsliding  of  the 
Christians  that  is  depressing, 

I  have  just  spent  four  days  in  Saijo,  a  seaport  town  on  the 
west  coast  of  Shikoku,  and  am  now  at  Komatsee,  which  is  the 
mother  church  of  this  region.  Saijo  is  a  wide  awake  place 
and  one  where  there  ought  to  be  an  evangelist,  but  evangelists 
are  not  made  to  order,  and  many  places  where  one  might  work 
well  are  left  with  no  one  to  help  them.  Here  in  Saijo  they 
have  had  no  one  for  five  years,  and  it  is  not  strange  that 
people  just  out  of  paganism  should  not  all  stand  the  test  of 
being  left  without  help  for  five  years.  But  it  is  discouraging, 
if  not  surprising,  to  see  the  work  of  many  years  dissipated 
through  neglect. 

But  it  is  not  all  dissipated,  by  any  means,  and  there  were 
some  Christians  who  were  a  real  comfort  and  inspiration.  One 
young   man    has   been   gathering   the   Christians    together    to 


—  6  — 

explain  Pilgrim's  Progress  to  them  twice  a  week,  and  has  been 
a  great  help  to  them.  There  is  no  one  there  who  seems 
qualified  to  teach  the  Bible.  The  older  Christians  seem  to 
have  lost  their  grip  on  it,  and  the  younger  ones  do  not  feel 
qualified  to  teach  the  older  ones.  The  first  half  of  Pilgrim's 
Progress  has  been  translated  into  Japanese,  and  the  Christians 
have  read  it.  The  second  half  has  not  been  translated,  and 
this  young  man  reads  English  and  is  qualified  to  explain  it  to 
them.  Having  thus  got  in  the  habit  of  meeting  together,  I 
think  now  he  will  teach  them  the  Bible. 

I  have  a  book  of  short  biographies  of  eminent  mission- 
aries; Judson,  Duff,  McKenzie  and  Makay,  that  I  think  he  can 
make  very  profitable  and  interesting  to  them  in  their  Wednes- 
day night  meetings.  If  I  can  I  shall  come  down  and  spend 
the  month  of  December  with  them.  I  do  not  know,  though, 
whether  I  shall  be  able  to  be  away  from  Kobe  as  long  as  that, 
but  I  hope  to  do  so.  If  I  do  come  I  will  hire  a  house  all 
ready  furnished  ;  that  is,  having  four  walls,  with  mats  on  the 
floor.  Will  bring  a  cot,  perhaps,  may  be  a  chair ;  if  I  want  to 
live  in  luxury,  a  farina  kettle  and  something  to  cook  in  it, 
and  a  spoon,  and  shall  be  able  to  set  up  house-keeping. 
The  Bible  woman  will  live  with  me,  or  I  with  her.  There  is 
not  a  decent  hotel  in  the  place.  I  use  the  word  decent, 
advisedly,  for  I  speak  from  experience.  I  have  had  more  of 
a  glimpse  of  the  lower  regions  in  Saijo,  in  my  various  visits 
than  in  all  my  experience  in  Japan.  Every  room  in  the  hotel 
was  in  use,  but  I  know  that  none  of  the  inmates  of  the  house, 
or  the  guests,  were  there  for  any  good  purpose,  except  the 
Bible  woman  and  myself.  The  waitresses  at  the  hotel  were 
all  geisha,  and  we  saw  a  good  deal  of  them.  The  first  evening 
I  was  there  two  gaily  dressed  girls  flounced  into  the  room  and 
sat  down  to  be  talked  to.  I  had  not  an  idea  what  I  could  say 
to  them  and  tried  various  things  only  to  find  that  such  things 
had  no  interest  for  them,  and  at  last  it  occurred  to  me  to  sing 
one  of  the  songs  in  the  Japanese  hymn  book.  As  soon  as  we 
began  to  sing  every  one  in  the  house,  guests  and  all,  came  in 
and  we  found  ourselves  with  a  meeting  on   our  hands.     Seed 


—  7  — 

• 

sown  in  such  a  place  seems  to  be  sown  by  the  wayside  or  in 
stony  places,  but  svho  knows  but  what  some  of  it  may  drift 
into  good  ground.  This  morning  before  leaving  the  hotel  I  had 
a  long  talk  with  two  of  the  young  girls  there.  Those  girls  are 
much  more  to  be  pitied  than  blamed.  They  have  been  trained 
from  infancy  by  their  parents  for  this  life.  One  of  them  had 
been  rented  to  this  house  for  five  years.  She  is  now  sixteen, 
a  sweet,  pretty,  ladylike  girl,  who,  if  she  were  in  America, 
would  be  an  ornament  to  some  pleasant  home,  and  a  delight 
and  a  comfort  to  her  parents.  Her  parents  are  both  living. 
At  the  end  of  the  five  years  she  will  be  free  from  her  present 
engagement,  but  will  only  be  fitted  for  another  engagement  of 
years. 

Tambara,  November  lo,  1897. 

While  waiting  for  the  bill  to  be  brought  in  before  starting 
on,  I  will  write  what  I  can.  I  have  only  been  away  from  home 
eight  days,  but  it  seems  eight  weeks,  I  have  seen  so  many 
people  and  heard  so  much  of  the  changes  and  the  pleasures 
and  disappointments  of  each  one,  that  it  seems  as  if  I  had  been 
here  months.  At  Komatsee  I  had  a  very  pleasant  time.  The 
hotel  there  is  the  old  daimyo  hotel,  that  is,  it  was  built  and 
fitted  up  for  the  entertainment  of  the  daimyos  passing  through. 
It  belongs  now  to  a  farmer  who  adds  the  hotel  keeping  busi- 
ness to  his  farming,  and  a  queer  combination  it  makes.  The 
imposing  separate  gate  and  two  pretty  gardens  belonging  to 
the  three  daimyo  rooms  are  a  strange  contrast  to  the  rest  of 
the  house,  with  the  smoke  and  dirt  and  piles  of  straw  and 
implements  that  belong  to  a  farmer.  I  always  feel  quite  dis- 
tinguished when  I  stay  at  that  hotel. 

The  Christians  in  Komatsee  are  a  great  comfort  and  an 
aggravation.  They  are  as  faithful  and  true  as  rock,  and  as 
immovable.  The  church  was  founded  about  sixteen  years 
ago  with  seventeen  members,  and  not  one  of  that  seventeen 
has  been  unfaithful.  But  though  they  seem  so  faithful  there 
is  not  one  of  them  now  who  seems  to  think  he  need  do  any 
other  work  than  hug  his  own  faith  to  himself.       We    had    a 


—  8  — 

• 

very  nice  meeting  though,  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  Christ- 
ians, who  has  a  very  beautiful  home.  It  was  thought  some 
would  come  there  who  would  not  go  to  the  church.  There 
were  about  thirty-five  present,  and  I  was  so  glad  to  see  some 
new  faces  among  those  that  I  have  known  before.  The  evan- 
gelist here  is  doing  real  good  work. 

Hadeba-Shikoku,  November  12. 

We  had  a  pleasant  day  on  the  loth,  going  out  in  the 
morning  to  see  a  sick  man,  of  whom  I  wrote  you.  We  went 
in  kurumas  to  the  river  near  which  the  sick  man  lived.  There 
was  no  bridge  so  we  had  our  kuruma  men  take  us  on  their 
backs.  It  was  quite  a  wide  river,  and  I  kept  slipping  off  the 
man's  back  until  my  feet  touched  the  water,  then  the  man 
would  stoop  clear  over  and  slide  me  back  into  the  proper 
position.  We  took  dinner  with  the  sick  man  and  then  walked 
about  two  miles  to  the  next  house  where  we  were  to  call.  We 
then  took  kurumas  for  three  miles  over  very  bad  roads,  reach- 
ing Tamba  too  late  for  a  meeting  that  evening. 

We  went  to  the  house  of  the  governor  of  the  county  and 
spent  the  evening.  He  and  his  wife  and  daughter  are  much 
interested  in  Christianity,  and  it  is  very  pleasant  to  talk  with 
them,  but  like  many  others,  they  are  waiting  for  a  more  con- 
venient season  before  taking  a  stand  for  the  Master. 

From  Tambara  we  walked  about  four  miles  to  Komatsee 
and  then  took  kurumas  for  the  copper  mines.  But  no  more 
now.  Good  bye, 

Gertrude  Cozad. 

Imabari,  Shikoku,  Japan,  November  15,  1897. 

Dear  Ones  All  : 

Have  just  returned  to  Imabari,  where  they  have  such  a 
model  church,  and  I  find  the  model  church  is  doing  quite  the 
model  thing  in  having  a  series  of  meetings,  with  two  of  the 
leading  pastors  here.  Mr.  Tomiokawas  for  years  prison  evan- 
gelist in  the  Hokkaido,  and  has  recently  returned  from  a  three 


—  9  — 

years'  stay  in  America,  where  he  has  been  studying  prison 
reform.  He  is  the  pure  gold  kind  of  Christian  ;  so  true  and 
earnest  and  spiritual,  and  unspoilable  by  flattery,  by  success,  or 
by  a  stay  in  America.  He,  with  another  young  man,  is  making 
a  tour  of  this  field.  The  other  man  I  believe  I  told  you  about 
in  the  last  letter.  He  is  the  one  who  has  got  to  wait  three 
years  for  one  of  our  Bible  women,  or  else  get  someone  else. 

To  go  backward  in  my  story,  I  have  had  four  pleasant 
days  at  the  village  at  the  foot  of  the  copper  mine,  and 
one  at  the  shipping  station  of  the  mine.  I  have  been 
entertained  at  the  house  of  two  most  delightful  people. 
Mr.  Harumi  has  a  very  fine  position  in  the  mine,  as  superin- 
tendent of  certain  departments  of  the  work.  The  mine  belongs 
to  a  family  by  the  name  of  Sumitome,  and  has  been  worked 
for  two  hundred  and  fifty  years.  It  now  has  an  output  of 
$800,000  a  year.  It  has  been  very  interesting  to  me  to  see 
the  condition  of  the  miners,  and  the  relation  between  the 
employer  and  employes.  The  employes  look  upon  the  Sumi- 
tome family  almost  as  gods,  and  there  is  the  greatest  reverence 
for  them  and  everything  belonging  to  them;  and  they  consider 
themselves  very  happy  to  be  in  their  employ.  The  whole 
country  in  that  region  belongs  to  Sumitome;  the  mountains, 
the  valleys,  the  plains,  houses,  farms,  and  I  was  going  to  add 
the  people  themselves.  I  suppose  there  are  about  three 
thousand  men  employed  there,  in  the  mines  and  the  works. 
The  employes  receive  good  wages  and  can  lay  up  more  money 
there  than  in  most  places,  if  they  are  inclined  to  be  saving. 
In  addition  to  their  wages  they  have  many  favors  fi"om  Sumi- 
tome. For  example,  he  furnishes  rice  to  all  laborers  at  five 
cents  a  sho,  (about  two  quarts,)  and  wheat  at  half  that  price. 
Rice  bought  elsewhere  costs  seventeen  cents  a  sho.  Not 
only  rice  but  every  necessity  of  life  is  furnished  by  Sumitome 
at  much  less  than  the  ordinary  price.  So,  you  see,  here  in 
Japan,  the  miners  can  become  money  lenders.  They  ought  to 
have  compensation  though,  for  it  is  a  dreadful  life  they  lead. 
But  it  is  not  nearly  as  hard  as  the  life  of  such  people  in 
America,  I  fancy. 


—    lO   — 

Perhaps  you  would  be  interested  to  hear  something  of  the 
trip  up  ;  though  the  whole  experience  was  indescribable. 
From  the  shipping  station  up  to  Hodeba  where  the  Harumio 
live,  there  is  a  cunning  little  railroad,  with  trains  running  four 
or  five  times  a  day,  a  distance  of  seven  miles. 

Way  up  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  above  Hadeba  there 
is  another  railroad  of  four  miles.  The  starting  point  is  seven- 
teen hundred  feet  right  above  Hadeba.  The  ore  and  goods  of 
all  sorts  are  sent  down  or  up  the  mountains  in  baskets  attached 
to  an  endless  revolving  rope.  A  great  deal  is  also  sent  up  by 
carriers.  The  road  is  three  miles  long,  zigzagging  up  the 
mountains,  and  it  is  pitiful  to  see  the  scores  of  people,  old  and 
young,  going  up  that  steep  hill  with  burdens  on  their  backs, 
little  girls  of  thirteen,  not  as -large  as  Rosamond,  carrying  up 
forty  pounds,  and  others,  according  to  their  strength,  carrying 
burdens  up  to  200  pounds.  We  knew  if  we  walked  up  the 
hill  we  would  be  too  tired  to  enjoy  the  sights,  and  so  I  went 
up  in  the  buckets.  It  seemed  dreadful  to  look  at  it,  for  in 
places  the  rope  hangs  three  hundred  feet  above  the  ground 
and  the  space  between  the  posts  is  very  wide.  There  are  often 
stops,  too,  so  you  hang  suspended  in  the  air  for  five  minutes 
or  so.  When  we  came  to  ride  up  though,  we  found  it  was  not 
as  frightful  as  it  seemed.  I  did  wish  I  had  my  camera  to  take 
a  picture  of  the  evangelist  and  Bible  woman  who  went  up 
with  him.  At  the  top  we  found  a  little  mite  of  an  engine 
and  two  little  cars  waiting,  one  for  freight  and  one  for  passen- 
gers. The  passenger  car  was  five  feet  by  seven  feet.  They 
can  not  have  more  than  three  such  cars  in  a  train,  because  the 
curves  are  so  sharp  and  so  frequent,  a  longer  car  or  a  longer 
train,  could  not  go  around  them.  The  road  is  only  four  miles 
long  and  everything  is  on  a  small  scale.  But  it  is  wonderful 
that  a  road  could  be  built  at  all  in  such  a  place,  and  it  makes 
one  dizzy  to  think  how  the  men  who  laid  the  foundation  must 
have  risked  their  lives  in  building  the  road.  At  the  top  we 
were  transferred  to  a  little  platform  on  four  little  wheels,  (there 
was  room  for  only  two  to  ride),  which  was  pushed  by  a  man 
through  a  tunnel  a  mile  long.     It  is  one  of  the  old  avenues  of 


1 1 


the  mine,  and  there  were  transverse  avenues  leading    off   in 
different  directions. 

The  scene  as  we  emerged  from  the  tunnel  was  one  never 
to  be  forgotten.      It  seemed  as  if  we    were  looking    upon  one 
great    seething    caldron,    with    here   and    there    high    smoke- 
stacks,    looming    up    out    of  the    smoke    and    steam,     while 
all  around  arose  the  steep  cliffs  of  the  mountains,  thousands  of 
feet  above  us.     Bare,  naked,  rocky  masses  with  tilts  and  strata 
so  unexpected  and  so  marked  that  I  am  sure  they  would  have 
won  the  heart  of  a  geologist.     Not  a  spear  of  grass  or  a  green 
leaf  to  be  seen  anywhere,  though  here  and  there  the  bleached 
trunk  and  branches  of  some  mighty  monarch  of  the  forest  of  old 
stood  as  a  monument  in  memory  of  the  forest  that  had  covered 
those  rocks  with  verdure  before  the  stifling  smoke  and  odor  of 
the  mines  and  works  wrought  their  work  of  death.     All  around 
on  terraces  built  up  of  rock,  the  houses  of  the  employes  stood. 
Barren  and  forlorn,  I  noticed  that  they  all  had  glass  instead  of 
paper  windows  to  keep  out  the  odor.     I  cannot  tell  about  the 
mines  very  much,  but  it  was  very  interesting  and  instructive  to 
see  them.     There  was  one  building    in   which   there    was    an 
engine   turning  two  great   wheels  with   coils   of  rope   around 
them.     The  rope  went  over  a  pulley  very  high    up  and  then 
down  an  inclined  shaft  to  the  very   foot  of  the    mine,    about 
3,000  feet,  and  the  ore  was  hauled  up  by  this   rope.     There 
were  eleven  places  under  the  ground  from  which  the  ore  from 
different  parts  of  the  mine  were  brought  by  men  and  horses  to 
be   hauled   up.     I  saw  another  place   where  the   engine    was 
used  in  breaking  up  the  rocks   a  half  mile  below,   and  which 
was  worked  by  compressed  air.     Another  engine  was  used  to 
send  fresh  air  to  all  parts  of  the  mine. 

It  would  only  weary  you  to  have  me  tell  of  all  that 
I  saw  there  of  the  process  of  getting  the  pure  red  metal 
out  of  the  gray  rock,  so  I  will  desist.  I  was  very  favor- 
ably impressed  with  the  appearance  of  the  employes.  They 
were  dressed  comfortably  and  lived  in  as  good  houses  as  other 
people   and    were  well   fed  and  comfortable.     Sumitome    has 


12    

good  schools  there,  kept  up  at  his  expense,  and  everything  is 
done  to  make  the  people  comfortable.  It  is  an  awful  place  to 
live  in,  and  I  should  think  people  would  go  insane  living  down 
in  that  hole  beneath  those  terrible  rocky  cliffs.  For  the  most 
part,  the  people  who  come  there  expect  to  stay  only  a  short 
time,  and  when  they  have  made  their  little  pile  go  away.  But 
after  they  get  used  to  it,  they  are  very  apt  to  stay,  and  in  time 
come  to  think  that  it  is  a  very  natural  and  desirable  way  to 
live,  and  quite  look  down  on  the  poor  mortal  grubbing  away 
on  the  farms  below  or  living  in  the  cities  and  eating  rice  at 
seventeen  sen  a  sho. 

There  was  one  thing  that  struck  me  as  essentially  Japan- 
ese, and  that  was  that  no  one  seemed  to  be  pressed  with  work. 
I  hardly  saw  anyone  working,  or  at  least,  if  I  did  occasionally 
see  someone  working,  as  soon  as  they  caught  sight  of  me, 
hands  and  tools  were  dropped  at  their  sides,  and  until  I  moved 
on  they  stood  gaping  at  me.  There  were  anywhere  from 
twenty  to  sixty  people  standing  stock  still  and  watching  me 
all  the  time  I  was  there.  These  people  all  work  twelve  hours 
a  day  and  seven  days  in  the  week,  but  they  always  have  time 
to  stop  and  chat  or  smoke  or  gape,  and  there  is  no  one  around 
apparently,  to  tell  them  to  go  to  work. 

Another  thing  was  essentially  Japanese,  and  that  was  the 
kindness  and  courtesy  we  received.  They  fixed  up  the  ore 
buckets  with  coarse,  pliable  matting,  and  then  put  in  blankets 
so  we  should  not  get  our  clothes  soiled,  for  the  buckets  were 
greasy.  While  we  were  going  up  they  were  very  careful  to 
run  the  thing  slowly  and  evenly.  A  man  was  sent  with  us  to 
see  that  every  attention  was  shown  us.  He  went  up  ahead  to 
get  the  passenger  car  ready,  and  all  day  long  was  most  thought- 
ful and  attentive.  Not  a  cent  did  the  whole  outing  cost  us, 
except  our  dinner  at  the  hotel.  Of  course,  much  of  this  kind- 
ness was  due  to  the  position  of  our  host,  but  if  we  had  gone  as 
strangers  they  would  have  done  much  for  us.  Mr.  Narumi  is 
very  busy  putting  in  a  new  electric  plant  which  is  to  replace 
the  old  endless  rope  system  of  portage  and  could  not  take  time 


—   13  — 

to  go  with  us,  but  he  went  up  in  the  bucket  and  met  us  at  the 
train  as  we  returned,  and  walked  down  with  us.  The  three 
days  spent  in  their  home  was  a  great  delight.  It  is  an  ideal 
Japanese  home;  no,  I  can't  say  that,  but  it  is  an  ideal  Christian 
home.  They  have  imbibed  some  foreign  ideas  to  good  effect. 
They  have  a  stove  in  their  bed  room,  and  a  foreign  bed,  and  an 
organ  and  a  rug  in  the  parlor,  and  two  rocking  chairs  on  the 
front  porch.  Mr.  Narumi  drinks  milk  and  would  keep  a  cow 
only  there  is  hardly  room  for  her  to  stand  on  the  mountain 
terraces.  They  have  a  garden  and  Mr.  N.  goes  out  and 
works  in  it,  just  for  pleasure.  They  also  have  a  green-house, 
or  at  least  a  little  room  with  glass  windows  facing  the  south, 
where  they  keep  their  plants.  The  delightful  part  of  it  all  was 
the  pleasant  relationship  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  N.  He  is  a 
busy  man  and  a  man  of  authority,  and  in  his  own  home  he  is 
the  master,  but  he  respects  and  appreciates  his  wife,  and  not 
once  did  I  hear  him  use  the  derogatory  form  of  the  word  you. 
He  used  the  familiar  short  forms  of  verbs  instead  of  the  longer 
polite  forms  she  used  to  him,  but  his  language  had  not  the 
insulting  tone  that  the  language  of  husband  to  wife  almost 
invariably  has.  She  appreciates  his  kindness  to  her,  and  is  all 
the  lovelier  to  him  because  of  the  privileges  she  has.  If  only 
Japanese  husbands  were  all  like  him,  this  small  portion  of  the 
world  would  be  a  very  different  place,  and  the  husbands  would 
be  happier  as  well  as  the  wives. 

He  is  a  very  earnest  Christian  and  has  won  many  people 
to  an  earnest  study  of  the  Bible.  Though,  of  course  he  does 
not  try  to  unduly  urge  them,  for  he  does  not  want  to  gather 
round  him  a  lot  of  "rice"  Christians.  He  is  evidently  loved  by 
the  people  under  him  and  appreciated  by  those  above  him. 
He  receives  every  new  year  a  goodly  present  of  money  from 
Sumitome  and  always  gives  it  away,  dividing  it  among  orphan- 
ages, schools  and  needy  people.  They  have  no  children,  but 
always  have  a  house  full  of  people  whom  they  are  helping; 
girls  who  are  in  danger  of  being  forced  into  a  hard  life,  young 
men  who  are  liable  to  yield  to  temptation,  and  wayward 
children  who  need  careful  training. 


—  14  — 

I  have  found  many  earnest,  faithful  Christians  during  this 
trip,  and  it  is  such  a  pleasure. 

Must  close  in  haste.     Will  tell  the  rest  in  another  letter. 

Gertrude  Cozad. 


Imabari,  Nov.  1 8,  1897. 

My  last  letter  was  brought  to  a  sudden  close,  so  I  will 
begin  this  just  where  I  left  off. 

It  is  such  a  pleasure  to  find  wherever  I  go  that  there  are 
one  or  two  or  three  Christians  in  the  place.  We  called  on  a 
Christiaa  woman  living  up  in  that  awful  town  at  the  mines. 
Poor  woman,  she  was  the  only  Christian  in  a  non-Christian 
family,  and  was  married  to  a  non-Christian,  and  her  life  is  a 
prett}'  hard  one.  She  is  evidently  very  lonely  there.  When 
we  spoke  of  the  ever  present  Comforter  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears,  and  it  was  very  evident  that  though  her  life  was  filled 
with  so  many  hard  things,  that  she  had  not  lost  her  one  and 
only  comfort. 

At  Nuhama,  the  port  of  the  mine,  we  found  one  earnest 
wide  awake  Christian  who  is  doing  all  he  can  to  keep  the  light 
burning  there.  We  had  a  meeting  in  his  house  in  the  evening, 
with  about  thirty-five  present.  That  was  the  day  after  our  trip 
to  the  mines,  and  we  were  a  lame,  weary  set  of  people. 

We  got  to  the  hotel  at  three  o'clock  and  had  futons 
brought  out  to  have  a  nap,  but  a  day  nap  in  a  Japanese  hotel 
is  almost  an  impossibility.  The  people  in  a  hotel  always  think 
people  deaf,  and  the  running  and  screaming  are  anything  but 
reposeful.  We  had  had  our  nner  at  one-thirty,  and  at  four- 
thirty,  while  we  were  all  three  lying  pretending  to  sleep,  the 
maid  brought  our  supper  in  and  squated  down  to  serve  the 
rice. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  we  persuaded  her  that  we 
couldn't  eat  so  soon,  and  that  if  we  ate  at  four-thirty  and 
attended  a  meeting  till  eleven,  we  would  have  to  have  another 
meal.  She  finally  desisted  in  her  attempt  to  force  us  to  eat 
and  left  the  dinner  there  on  the  floor  for  us  to  eat   when   we 


—   15  — 

could,  which  we  did  two  hours  later.  We  had  to  get  up  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  take  the  boat  for  Imbari. 

When  we  reached  here  we  found  that  Mr.  Tomioka  and 
Mr.  Matsui  were  here.  It  has  been  like  a  breeze  from  home 
to  see  Mr.  Tomioka.  He  is  such  a  hearty,  happy,  inspiring 
man.  I'm  so  sorry,  papa,  that  you  did  not  see  him  when  he 
was  in  America.  He  went  to  Cleveland  and  visited  the  work- 
house and  the  jail,  and  if  I  had  only  given  him  your  address 
he  could  have  called  on  you. 

When  he  was  a  boy  he  went  as  an  adopted  son  to  a  cer- 
tain family  with  the  expectation  that  he  would  become  the 
husband  of  the  daughter  previously  adopted.  The  family  had 
no  children  of  their  own.  When  he  was  seventeen  he  became 
a  Christian  and  his  father  was  very  angry.  He  tried  in  every 
way  to  make  the  boy  give  it  up,  but  could  not.  His  father 
took  him  out  to  a  store-house,  like  the  little  model  you  have, 
and  kept  him  shut  up  there  in  the  dark  and  damp  for  three 
days  without  food,  but  he  wouldn't  give  in.  Then  the  father 
in  his  rage  tied  him  up  and  was  going  to  kill  him,  but  neigh- 
bors interfered.  At  last  the  daughter  managed  to  effect  his 
escape,  and  he  came  here  to  Imbari,  where  he  was  protected 
and  cared  for  by  the  Christians.  He  became  a  pastor,  and 
married  this  same  girl.  She  had  no  training,  though,  so  he 
sent  her  to  our  school  for  three  years  before  their  marriage. 
Finally  an  end  to  their  troubles  came.  She  graduated  from  our 
school  and  was  married  the  same  day,  I  believe,  and  the  next 
Sunday  the  father  and  mother  received  baptism.  Mr.  Tamioka 
hasn't  been  back  here  in  Imabari  for  many  years,  so  it  has  been 
a  great  pleasure  to  him  and  to  the  people  to  meet  once  more. 
They  have  had  splendid  meetings  with  the  church  packed  full. 
We  all  went  up  to  Hashihania  for  a  meeting,  but  the  rain 
poured  all  the  time  we  were  there,  so  we  could  not  have  much 
of  an  audience,  but  I  don't  know  but  what  the  few  who  were 
there  may  have  been  helped,  and  believe  that  the  meeting  was 
not  in  vain. 

Hashihama  is  the  place  where  the  little  church  was  closed 
for  three  years,  except  for  the  meetings  held  there  every  Sun- 


—   i6  — 

day  by  two  women,  mother  and  daughter,  At  last  in  answer 
to  their  prayers,  and  on  account  of  the  lift  at  the  wheel,  given 
by  faith  and  efforts  of  the  pastor  and  Bible  woman  at  the  next 
town,  Imbari,  the  debt  was  paid,  and  meetings  are  being  held 
there  regularly.  The  dear  old  lady  is  still  polishing  away  at 
her  light  and  I  can  assure  you  it  burns  brightly.  When  we 
got  to  the  place  we  found  that  she  with  two  or  three  others 
were  over  at  the  church  scrubbing,  and  the  floor  was  clean 
enough  to  eat  off  of 

It  isn't  much  trouble  to  keep  the  windows  clean,  for  there 
is  hardly  a  pane  of  glass  left  in  the  windows  by  the  naughty 
boys  of  the  town.  She  had  been  out  with  a  spade  also  trying 
to  bank  up  the  earth  round  the  church  so  the  water  would 
not  run  under  it.  The  people  of  the  town  will  not  come  to 
the  meetings  much  yet,  though  there  is  one  young  man  who 
has  been  brought  to  Christ  there  recently.  The  children 
though  are  most  faithful  attendants,  and  they  will  bring  the 
older  ones  in  time  if  the  faith  and  patience  of  the  Christians 
hold  out.  Mr.  Tsuyuum,  the  pastor  at  Imabari,  and  the  Bible 
woman  Kanokugi  San,  and  one  or  two  other  Christians  walk 
over  three  miles  from  Imabari,  every  Sunday,  simply  for  that 
Sunday  School  of  dirty  clamoring  children,  and  for  the  Bible 
study  with  five  or  six  people. 

Mr.  Tsuyuum  doesn't  know  the  word  discouragement,  and 
he  inspires  all  those  about  him  with  his  own  zeal  more  or  less. 
On  Monday  night  he  and  one  or  two  others  go  in  a  row 
boat  over  to  an  island  several  miles  away  where  there  is 
another  little  company  of  Christians.  Morning,  noon  and 
night,  seven  days  in  a  week  that  man  keeps  at  his  work  with 
unflagging  energy,  pushing  the  work  where  others  would  think 
the  way  was  closed.  The  Bible  woman,  one  of  our  graduates, 
and  such  a  lovely  woman,  is  earnest  and  hopeful  and  patient 
as  he  is,  though  she  has  to  fight  against  great  physical 
weakness. 

We  had  a  very  nice  meeting  with  the  Christians  the  morn- 
ing after  the  meeting  at  Hashihama,  and  then  all  of  us  came 
back  on  the  roof  of  one  of  those  little  house  boats.      You  have 


the  picture  of  one,  you  know.     It  was  a  beautiful   ride  among 
the  islands  of  this  wonderful  inland  sea. 

At  Imabari  I  have  been  most  hospitabl)'  entertained  at 
the  home  of  a  young  doctor,  an  oculist.  It  is  a  great  trouble 
for  the  Japanese  to  entertain  a  foreigner,  for  they  will  not  let 
us  sit  down  and  eat  with  the  rest,  but  bring  our  food  to  our 
own  room,  if  they  have  a  separate  room  to  give,  as  in  this 
case.  They  make  themselves  perfect  slaves  to  our  comfort, 
and  it  troubles  me  to  have  so  much  done.  It  is  very  pleasant 
and  restful,  though,  to  be  in  such  a  place.  A  meeting  had  been 
planned  for  a  gathering  at  the  house  of  this  doctor,  and  I 
found  when  I  reached  Imabari  they  had  already  printed  invi- 
tations to  it,  announcing  my  subject.  I  was  very  much 
alarmed  to  hear  what  elaborate  plans  had  been  made  for  the 
meeting,  for  I  dread  speaking  in  Japanese  very  much.  The 
subject  was  "Home  Training."  I  found  this  time,  as  at  other 
times,  that  if  I  can  lose  myself  in  my  subject  and  forget  whether 
it  is  Japanese  or  English,  that  I  can  hold  the  attentionof  the 
hearers  as  well  in  Japanese  as  in  English. 


Takamatsu,  Nov.  23. 

The  last  day  of  this  trip,  and  I  am  glad  to  go  back  home 
for  a  little  while.  I  have  never  had  an  easier  trip  in  some 
ways,  and  I  think  it  is  because  I  am  so  well  and  rested  by  my 
trip  home.  The  Japanese  food  has  not  troubled  me  at  all.  In 
fact,  I  rather  think  it  has  agreed  with  me  better  than  the  home 
food  since  I  came  back. 

The  one  trial  is  the  sitting,  but  there,  too,  I  am  much 
better  off  than  I  expected  to  be,  for  my  ankle  is  much  stronger 
than  when  I  left  home.  I  think  much  walking  is  strength- 
ening it.  I  don't  attempt  to  sit  properly  even  a  moment, 
for  it  is  simply  agony  to  that  ankle,  but  by  putting  my  feet 
out  at  one  side  a  little  I  manage  to  keep  the  refractory  mem- 
ber in  fairly  good  humor. 

We  had  such  a  nice  meeting  last  night,  not  very  large  ; 
perhaps  twenty-five  sitting  down  and  twenty  more  standing  in 


the  entry  to  hear.  I  know  the  Holy  Spirit  was  there,  and  a 
few  more  chips  of  this  great  wall  of  heathenism  were  broken  off. 

Sometimes  it  seems  as  if  I  were  tongue-tied  in  the  meeting 
and  in  calling,  and  again  it  seems  as  if  I  wasn't  even  trying  to 
speak,  but  the  words  came  of  themselves,  and  those  are  the 
times  when  they  seem  to  reach  the  mark. 

At  Marugarue  we  had  four  pleasant  days,  coming  on  here 
yesterday.  The  church  there  is  a  women's  church.  Almost 
all  the  women  are  faithful,  earnest  Christians,  but  of  the  five 
or  six  m.en  only  one  is  in  earnest,  and  he  is  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh  and  a  great  stumbling  block  to  others.  I  reminded  the 
pastor  there  of  the  Lord's  commission  to  Peter  to  "  feed  my 
sheep — feed  my  lambs,  feed  my  sheep." 

The  command  to  feed  the  sheep  had  to  be  given  twice, 
because  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  feed  the  sheep,  black  and 
white,  and  the  old  bucking  ram.  Mr.  Higashi  speaks  English 
and  in  our  conversation  we  referred  to  the  young  man  as  the 
"bucking  ram"  to  avoid  use  of  names. 

Another  man  used  to  be  such  an  earnest  Christian,  but  he 
is  in  a  business  now  where  he  can  not  carry  out  his  Christian 
principles.  He  is  in  the  employ  of  a  man  who  has  made  him- 
self rich  by  furnishing  supplies  to  the  army  and  navy  and 
building  war  vessels,  and  the  whole  business,  I  infer,  is  a 
nefarious  scheme.  Mr.  Takano  is  only  one  of  hundreds  of 
employees,  and  has  to  do  as  he  is  told  even  though  he  knows 
it  is  wrong.  His  conscience  troubles  him  and  he  is  very  un- 
happy about  giving  up  his  Christian  life.  He  knows  that  his 
continuing  in  a  Christian  life  is  incompatible  with  continuing 
in  that  business,  but  he  has  a  wife  and  five  children  and 
nothing  else  to  do,  so  he  thinks  he  must  keep  on. 

Papa,  perhaps  you  remember  my  telling  you  about  an  old 
man,  a  scholarly,  fine  man,  who  had  refused  to  accept  Chris- 
tianity for  years,  but  whom  I  was  instrumental  in  helping  to 
look  at  it  in  a  new  way.  I  have  many  tmies  had  expressions 
of  gratitude  for  what  I  did  not  do  at  that  time.  This  young 
man  is  his  son,  and  he  came  to  the  hotel  after  the  Sunday 
evening  meeting  and  sat  down   and   almost  challenged  me  to 


—   19  — 

help  him  in  his  present  difficulty.  We  talked  till  twelve 
o'clock,  but  he  knew  as  well  as  I  did  that  there  was  but  one 
way  to  put  his  troubled  conscience  at  rest. 

Here  in  Takamatsu  there  is  a  family  I  have  been  interested 
in  since  I  first  saw  them  three  years  ago.  The  adopted 
son,  who  is  now  the  husband  of  the  daughter  in  the 
family,  is  a  Christian,  and  the  young  wife,  mother  and 
grandmother  used  to  be  much  interested,  but  lost  their  interest. 
Two  years  ago  when  I  was  here  the  wife  and  mother  did  not 
see  me  when  I  called,  and  the  grandmother,  such  a  dear  old 
lady,  seemed  to  be  so  over-borne  with  her  own  troubles  that 
she  could  not  think  about  Christ.  She  had  recently  almost 
entirely  lost  her  eyesight.  I  have  been  praying  for  her  ever 
since,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  last  night  to  learn  that  the  Lord 
had  heard  our  prayers  and  before  he  took  her  home,  about 
two  years  ago,  he  gave  her  new  light  and  joy  even  in  her 
blindness. 

Kobe,  Nov.  26,  '97. 

I  am  sitting  by  our  blazing  sitting-room  fire  as  stupid 
and  comfortable  as  can  be  imagined,  and  becoming  so  used  to 
home  luxuries  that  I  fear  it  will  be  pretty  hard  next  week  to 
tear  out  again  and  go  down  to  Shikoku  for  another  three 
weeks. 

I  had  a  dreadful  time  getting  home  from  Shikoku.  The 
mail  steamer  was  to  leave  at  five  o'clock  and  I  thought  I  would 
take  that  and  get  home  at  midnight.  I  went  down 
to  the  landing  before  five,  three  young  men  going  with 
me,  all  of  them  young  married  men,  and  there  we 
sat  at  the  little  tea  house,  from  five  o'clock  till  three-thirty  the 
next  morning,  waiting  for  our  boat  and  talking  all  the  time. 
Those  poor  young  men  had  not  had  their  supper,  and  I  had. 
not  money  enough  left  to  buy  any  for  them.  I  kept  urging 
them  to  go  home,  but  they  did  not  like  to  leave  me  alone 
there,  so  they  stayed  on.  The  aggravating  thing  was  that  at 
seven  o'clock  another  steamer  went,  but  it  was  of  a  line  not 
patronized  by  that  tea  house,  and  so  they  did  not  inform   me 


20    

of  jt.  Finally  another  boat  came  and  we  were  under  way  a 
little  before  four.  I  came  second-class,  and  the  compartment 
was  way  at  the  stern  of  the  boat.  There  was  no  room  on  the 
floor,  for  the  people  were  lying  as  thick  as  they  could  be 
wedged  in,  and  so  I  lay  up  on  the  ledge  at  the  very  back  of 
the  boat,  where  I  could  get  all  the  motion  there  was  to  be  had, 
and  we  had  a  plenty,  and  I  was  sick,  I  can  assure  you,  and  by 
the  time  I  reached  home  at  twelve  o'clock,  I  felt  about  as  thick 
as  as  kinny  fish.  It  seemed  almost  like  coming  to  heaven 
from  a  place  unmentionable. 

Our  house  no  longer  seems  dull  and  plain.     It  is  lovely  to 

me,  and  every  time  I  come  home  after  an  absence  of  some  time 

I  want  to  kiss  the  shiny  yellow  pillar  on   the  front  porch.      I 

don't  do  it  though,  for  I  should  feel  terribly   to    be    that   silly 

•even  by  myself. 

The  Standfords  are  still  here,  and  may  be  for  some  time. 
Mrs.  Clark  is  also  here  resting  up  after  six  weeks  nursing  of 
four  sick  children.  They  have  all  four  been  very  sick  with 
bronchitis,  pneumonia  and  influenza.  The  other  sick  people 
are  all  doing  well  except  Helen  Davis,  who  is  having  another 
serious  relapse. 

We  had  our  Thanksgiving  at  the  Atkinson's  yesterday 
with  dinner  at  6:30,  and  such  a  jolly  time  after  it  till  eleven 
o'clock,  and  then  we  broke  up  reluctantly.  One  of  the  Atkin- 
son girls  is  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  young  Englishman 
here. 

Among  many  other  causes  for  Thanksgiving  I  felt  like 
giving  thanks  because  my  missing  baggage  has  turned  up.  I 
found  such  a  lot  of  mail  here  when  I  came,  among  other  things 
there  were  twenty  cards  from   papa. 

Must  close  with  ever  so  much  love  to  all.  GERTRUDE. 

I  find  the  mail  went  out  last  night  instead  of  to-night,  as 
we  supposed,  so  this  letter  will  not  reach  you  as  early  as  it 
should.  Am  so  sorry.  Am  sending  some  maple  leaves  to 
show  what  delicate  lace-like  leaves  we  have  here.  They  are 
wonderfully  pretty  on  the  tree. 


21    — 

Kobe,  Japan,  December  5. 

My  time  at  home  here  in  Kobe  this  year  is  going  to  be 
very  short.  I  have  been  here  three  times  for  a  week  or  ten 
days,  and  am  ready  to  start  off  in  two  days  for  another  three 
or  more  weeks.  I  am  very  much  attached  to  our  home 
and  hate  to  leave  its  comforts  every  time,  but  am  glad  the 
work  pulls  me  away  from  this  life  in  Kobe.  It  is  simply 
impossible  to  accomplish  anything  at  this — shall  I  call  it — 
hotel.  We  have  company  all  the  time.  It  is  very  pleasant 
but  decidedly  antagonistic  to  good  work. 

My  next  trip  is  to  Myazaki,  in  the  province  of  Huiga,  on 
the  island  of  Kinshiu.  My  object  is  to  visit  the  different 
stations  in  that  field  and  help  what  I  can  in  the  women's  work 
there.  Miss  McCandish  goes  with  me  to  get  an  idea  of  the 
work.  She  has  just  come  out.  Poor  girl,  I  am  glad  I  am  not 
at  her  end  of  the  work.  I  sometimes  wish  I  were  at  Miss 
Dudley's  end— (near  the  last  end)— of  it,  not  very  often  though, 
for  I  enjoy  the  work  as  I  go  along.  And  I  have  faith  that  it  is 
a  work  that  is  going  to  pay. 

The  straight  journey  down  to  Miyazaki  will  take  me  three 
days,  one  by  boat  and  two  by  jinriksha.  It  is  disastrous  to 
my  work  in  Kobe  to  be  going  about  like  this,  but  I 
think  I  shall  do  more  touring  than  teaching,  as  formerly. 
After  my  hard  trips  it  is  so  nice  to  come  back  to  my  homy  room 
here  where  I  have  papa's  picture  on  the  wall  and  Olive  and 
Jennie's  family  groups  of  children,  and  the  painting  of  the 
little  white  house  in  which  1  was  born,  so  nicely  arranged, 
with  my  new  book  case  and  the  photos  about.  It  is 
sometimes  dreadfully  distracting  and  sometimes  makes  me 
feel  kind  of  homesick,  though  not  often.  I  can  never  tell  you 
what  a  joy  the  memory  of  that  year  at  home  is  to  me. 


^Ml^^^^'^^^-       BW8520.C88 
^W^vC^y?*?*-^--  -i*^''^       Home  letters  of  Gertrude  Cozad, 

;  ;■?    ■'•&•' 'Y'-v'"-\:^fivv'"'^-''  -V-^  Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00040   1929       'il^rfl-^M^fjl^ 


